


fifteen, there's still time for you

by brahe



Series: caught between ten and twenty [1]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Learning to Drive, Mentions of Nightmares, Mentions of PTSD, Vaguely Described Panic Attack, and the related shenanigans, but like, dealing with high school, definitely wasnt me hahahaha, mentions of bullying, other characters from the movie are mentioned, peter parker deals with being a teenager, tbh this is probably fluff, teen angst(tm), there's some angst, video games - Freeform, what is a normal teenager?, with the help of ned and mj
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-12-01 00:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: Peter's not quite cut out for "life on the ground," but he thinks that if he can figure out how to be a superhero, being a teenager can't really be that hard. Right?Or, a series of events where Peter deals with nightmares and flashbacks and the all-important question of what it means to be fifteen.





	fifteen, there's still time for you

**Author's Note:**

> homecoming literally changed my life I haven't stopped thinking about the movie since I saw it two days ago and i'm going again for my birthday friday (which this is lowkey a birthday fic for myself) and I just. wow. it's so good. soo soooooo good. wow.  
> i didn't really have a plan for this, just started writing it, since it was mostly self-indulgent. it's in three parts, and it's basically just peter doing teenager things while also dealing with almost dying like ten times in the span of a day and a half.
> 
> not beta read
> 
> title from 100 years by five for fighting

1.

 

"What's it like?" Peter asks Ned one night, after everything. He's hanging from the top bunk, legs hooked over the edge - he's always found himself more comfortable upside down. "You know, being a normal teenager."

Ned looks over at him, no longer surprised to see his friend the wrong way up now that he knows. "I'm not sure I'm the one to ask about that," Ned says, laughs a little. Because he wouldn't classify himself as the normal teenager, either, though Peter has even less of an idea, he supposes.

"I mean," Peter says, huffs. "I'd rather hang around on the sides of buildings and chase bad guys and...not do Spanish homework. Or learn how to drive."

He remembers a ~~stolen~~  borrowed car, the sharp sound of metal grating against asphalt, the sudden tilt of the world so very different from the kinds he's used to, the kinds he enjoys.

He's pretty sure normal teenagers don't deal with the kinds of nightmares he has, either.

"I don't think anyone wants to do Señora Jurado's homework," Ned says, and Peter smiles for a second, agrees.

"But I don't really know how to answer that, man," Ned sighs. "Everyone always says that teenagers don't want to do homework and they hate school, and that they'd rather play video games or go to clubs or whatever." 

"I don't hate school," Peter says, brows furrowed. "It's pretty boring, sometimes, but..."

"Yeah," Ned agrees, and they're silent for a while.

Ned tries to imagine life for Peter, how it must feel to know he can do the things he can, how he can stop a bus and lift half a building and stick to walls. How it must feel to know he could save more people, he could make a bigger difference, if he were only a little bit older. 

He thinks about the time he shot a guy with Peter's web shooters, about watching a plane crash across a beach and _knowing_ \- he thinks about the nightmares that sometimes keep him awake all night, and wonders what that's like for Peter. 

"Do you ever wish you were?" Ned asks, eventually. They've been through too much together for it to be mean, insensitive, and they made a promise to each other, along the line the past couple weeks, that Peter would be honest and Ned would be understanding.

"Sometimes," Peter admits. He slides from the bed, lands on his hands, and folds over so he's laying on the ground. "Sometimes I wish I could just let things go, you know? I'm not a cop, I can't stop every crime, but - but I have to try, I can't _not_  try. The things I can do, it's hard to just forget about them. Every time I get on a bus, I remember that time in the YouTube video. I look at my hands, and I remember what the outside of that bus felt like, how easily I stopped it."

Ned isn't really sure what to say to that, isn't really sure if anyone would know. He can't sympathize - he can't even _imagine_ what that would feel like.

"What if we tried something, you know, to help you forget? Or, at least, to feel like a normal teenager?" he suggests, and Peter rolls his head along the carpet, looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

"How?"

Ned shrugs, sits up. "Well, you can join the band again. And robotics. You don't need superpowers to build robots." Ned pauses, thinks about what he would want someone to say to him.

"Plus, we can always do normal things, but, like, in a superhero way," he adds. "You know, make you play Mario Kart upside down, or something."

That gets a laugh from Peter. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea," he says. "You'd probably feel even worse when I beat you looking at the screen upside down."

Ned throws a pillow at him, and they're both laughing, the room feeling much lighter. He hates when Peter gets like this - down on himself - and he's always proud of himself when he can pull Peter out of it. 

They sit again for a while, quiet, and Peter thinks about being fifteen, about staying up later than he should, sleeping in on weekends, going to the movies twice in one week. He thinks about what life on the ground might feel like, and he knows he'll never quite know what that's like. But that's okay, he figures, because he has LEGOs with Ned and the Decathlon team and Italian lessons with Aunt May; but he _also_ has super strength and sticky feet and a preference for hanging upside down.

"Hey," he says, sitting up. He flicks on the Wii, tosses Ned a remote, and then sticks himself to the ceiling. "I call Yoshi."

"I'm picking tracks, then," Ned replies, and yeah, maybe it's not quite normal, but it's life.

 

 

2.

 

The first time he gets in a car again, it's been a month. The sounds of screeching tires makes him jump, and every time they turn he squeezes his eye shut. He's told Aunt May everything, especially about that night, and she gets it, really, indulges his desire to walk instead of drive, no matter how many times she assures him it's safe.

He knows she's mentally cheering when he agrees to take the car to the grocery store, and he gives her a pained smile. He's sure he looks clammy and pale, but he's determined. He won't let what happened define whether or not he can ride in a car.

It's been raining, and May drives careful as she can, but even she can stop the car from shifting around in deeper puddles, sliding a little this way and that, and every time Peter tries not to imagine it flipping, tumbling, sending them flying.

They make it to the grocery store, and if Peter is a little shaky when he climbs out, May says nothing, only wraps her arm around his waist and tucks him against her side.

 

He asks her, one night, why it bothers him so much.

"I'm fine. The car crash wasn't even that bad, compared to the thousand other things that happened. I wasn't even hurt, but every time I get on a car I just picture it flipping over and squishing me." 

May tugs him closer on the couch, holds the back of his head as she thinks.

"Everybody handles trauma differently," she says. "It's like the nightmares, too. You imagine a similar scenario, but something worse."

Peter can tell she's a little out of her depth, but he appreciates it all the same. And it makes sense, he supposes, because it could have been a lot worse, and every night his mind seems determined to show him a lot worse over and over. 

 

The first time he gets behind the wheel again, it's been two months. Aunt May is beside him like always, and she watches him carefully as he straps on, sits with his hands in the wheel for what feels like hours.

"You don't have to," she tells him softly. He shakes he head.

"I don't want to be scared of driving for the rest of my life," he says, curses the burning behind his eyes.

"Okay," May says, "it's okay. Take your time."

He's tentative on the gas, goes a whole five miles an hour in the parking lot, even slower when he turns, and he has to slam the breaks twice when he turns faster than he thought and he sees the world tilting sideways and a car screeching, flipping, sliding across the ground.

The second time, he bangs his hands on the wheel, lets his forehead fall on it and squeezes his eyes shut, frustrated tears making their way down his cheeks.

"It's okay, Peter," May says, running her fingers through his hair a few times.

"No, it's not!" he says, almost shouts, angry at the car, at himself. He can't even drive a car like a normal person, he isn't _good enough -_

"Listen to me right now, Peter Parker." May's face is stern when Peter looks at her. "There's still seven months until you can get your permit, okay? You don't have to be a perfect driver right now - you won't be a perfect driver for a long time. You have all the time you need to get over this. And if you need to talk to someone, we'll figure that out. Okay?"

Peter nods, takes a breath, sighs. "Okay."

"Let's try some parking, that might be easier." 

She watches Peter guide the car in reverse, pulling in forward and backwards, wishes she could do more the ease the way his knuckles are white on the wheel, the way he's obviously terrified of the vehicle.

She resolves to talk to Linda in the morning, and maybe Mr. Stark, too. Of everyone she knows, she's willing to bet the man behind the Iron Man deals with plenty of his own demons.

 

 

3.

 

Four months later, and he's talking to Mr. Stark once a week, he's sleeping through the night, he's getting better at driving, he's still beating Ned in Mario Kart - things are going pretty well. The Decathlon team meets every Wednesday, that's also going pretty well, until it isn't.

"...eter. Peter. Parker!" That's MJ, yelling at him to get his attention. He snaps back into focusing on the practice match, but he can't remember what he's supposed to be answering.

"Can you repeat the question?" he asks, sheepish, and MJ rolls her eyes.

"What a surprise," Flash drawls, looking up from the handbook. "Whatchya thinking about this time, Pete? Spider-Man come over last night..."

Peter misses the rest of the comment, because his mind latches on _Pete_ and then he's thinking about guns and threats in the back seat of a fancy car, crashing into buses and the weight of a building pressing him down into concrete.

He's frozen, lost to reality, until he remembers where he is, and then he's scrambling out of his chair, sending it clanging on the floor. He jumps the desk, half surprised he makes it over and lands on the ground, forgets to make it look hard, doesn't care - doesn't hear the way Flash is snickering, laughing at him, until he realizes no one else finds it remotely funny that Peter's losing his mind. 

Ned's suddenly beside him, then, hooking an arm around him and helping him out, stays with him when he crumbles against the wall, sliding down it until his head is between his knees.

He tries to breathe slow and steady, though it takes longer than he would like to get himself under control.

He looks across his knees to Ned, who's stayed with him, silent and supporting.

"I read some stuff online," Ned says, in response to the question Peter doesn't ask out loud. "About helping people who've through some hard stuff."

Peter nods, but his chest still hurts a little, and he's feeling a bit twitchy.

"I figured - when he said - and what you told me," Ned shrugs, and Peter could not have had a better friend if he created one himself.

"Thanks," he says, and he's happy his voice doesn't sound as rough as he thought it would.

"You ready to go back in?" Ned asks. Peter sighs.

"In a minute," Peter agrees. He grimaces. "How bad?"

Ned thinks for a minute. "You might have to say you used to do gymnastics," he says, and Peter smiles faintly for a moment. "Flash thought it was funny, until he was the only one laughing. MJ looked really worried, and I think Mr. Harrington was ready to call the Nurse."

Peter let his head fall against the wall and breathed slowly out his nose.

"Okay. Okay, I'm good. Let's go." 

He pulls himself up off the floor and Ned follows him back into the room. Mr. Harrington approaches him almost immediately.

"Are you okay, Peter? What happened?" 

"I'm fine," Peter says, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was just, um..."

"Peter!" MJ says, then, and she gives him a Look. He tries to thank her with his eyes.

"Are you good to keep practicing?" she asks and Peter nods.

"Yeah, let's do it."

He settles back into his seat and pretends he doesn't see Ned and MJ talking about him behind the podium.

 

He's half expecting MJ to ask him for the truth when Decathlon is over and they're waiting at the curb, him and her and Ned. Only, instead she says - 

"My dad's friend has the same thing sometimes. When he's reminded of stuff from when he was overseas."

And, honestly, Peter has the greatest friends in the universe. MJ leaves it at that, doesn't ask what triggered it or why he even has the issue.

"I'll see you losers tomorrow," she says when her ride pulls up. They watch the car drive away.

"What did you say to her?" he asks Ned, who shrugs.

"Just that you've been through some stuff, and you don't usually like talking about it."

"Oh. Thanks." 

"I got your back, buddy. Man in the chair."

They don't say anything for a while after that, just watch cars drive back and forth on the road in front of them.

"What about LEGO Indiana Jones?" Ned asks.

"Game on," Peter agrees. "Aunt May's making lasagne."

**Author's Note:**

> i love ned. go ned.
> 
> also, according to my gazillion cousins in new york, you can't get your license until you're 17, so that's what i based this on.
> 
> Now a series! Yay!
> 
> also news, i made a sideblog for my writing, catch me on tumblr at [brahewrites](https://brahewrites.tumblr.com)


End file.
